


Vanquish by Wisdom Hellish Wiles

by numinous_mysteries (igloo_octopus)



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-15 21:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12329166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/igloo_octopus/pseuds/numinous_mysteries
Summary: Post-My Struggle 2.Heavy spoilers for the Season 11 trailer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “Victory and triumph to the Son of God  
> Now entering his great duel, not of arms,  
> But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles.  
> The Father knows the Son; therefore secure  
> Ventures his filial virtue, though untried,  
> Against whatever may tempt, whatever seduce,  
> Allure, or terrify, or undermine.  
> Be frustrate, all ye stratagems of Hell,  
> And devilish machinations come to nought.”  
> \- John Milton, Paradise Regained
> 
> “For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous.”  
> \- Romans 5

Dana Scully has never been thirty minutes late for work. Even when she was battling cancer, she’d show up minutes before nine, dressed impeccably even if her sunken eyes and pallid skin betrayed her brave façade. It wasn’t unusual for him to arrive earlier than her. That was typically because he’d come in early to re-examine a detail of a case or a years-old file that had kept him up the previous night. In fact, there had only been a handful of times when she was late at all—and those were from the precious few months they’d been sleeping together and she’d slink out of his bed to go home and shower. Even then, never thirty minutes late.

He ached to call her and make sure she was alright. He wasn’t sure if she’d be appreciative or annoyed, though. He’d been careful not to push the boundaries of their fragile, slow-healing relationship. Ever since they became partners again it felt like one step forward, two steps back. She had come over for dinner and a movie a few times and let herself rest her head on his shoulder, but she still went back to her apartment each time and never invited him over.

He hoped she wasn’t late because she’d had to return to her apartment after leaving some other guy’s place early in the morning. He knew it would just kill him if she came sauntering in with that just-been-fucked grin that used to be reserved for him. The first time they slept together he thought the most beautiful sight in the world was Scully’s face mid-orgasm but moments later he learned he was wrong. It was really post-coital Scully—warm, soft, smiling post-coital Scully.

She was now thirty-three minutes late. He decided to wait two more minutes before calling her. He stared down the secondhand on the wall clock and then heard his phone ringing on the desk.

“Mulder,” he answered.

“As in Fox Mulder?”

“The one and only.”

“Mr. Mulder, this is Dr. Stein at Georgetown Medical Center.”

Fuck, he thought. Nothing good ever came from surprise calls from the hospital.

“Dana Scully was admitted to the hospital this morning after a minor car accident. She sustained a mild concussion and lost consciousness, so we’re just keeping an eye on her. You’re listed as her emergency contact so I thought I should notify you—“

“Yes, of course. I’m on my way.”

The jealousy he’d felt moments earlier gave way to panic. What a cruel twist of fate it would be that after all they’d been through, something as ordinary as a car crash could take her away from him.

On the way to the hospital he repeated the doctor’s phrases “mild” and minor” in his head, trying to reassure himself that she was fine. He tried to tell himself that he’d get there to see her sitting up in bed convincing her doctors that she didn’t need to be kept for observation. She’d tell him it was nothing and he was silly for rushing over there. Still, he drove above the speed limit the entire way.

The scene in the hospital felt like a painful rehash of all the times he’d done this before. The yelling of her name, the orderlies’ futile attempts to get him to calm down, and then finally being shown to her room. Through the door he could see her lying motionless in the bed, her eyes closed.

A short, balding man in a white coat approached him at the doorway to her room.

“Mr. Mulder?”

“Yes, are you Dr. Stein? Why isn’t she awake?”

“We gave Ms. Scully a mild sedative—“

“Why did she need a sedative?” He barked over the doctor’s head and tried to focus on her form in the bed to see if he could make out the rise and fall of her chest with each breath.

“Like I said on the phone, she was knocked unconscious in the accident. When she came to she was very agitated, probably shaken up from the crash, so we gave her something to relax her for a bit. We did a CT scan and it doesn’t look like there is any additional bruising or bleeding in the brain. She should be awake shortly.”

Mulder nodded. He pushed past the doctor into the room and to her side.

“Scully,” he whispered. A jagged purple bruise marred the delicate skin of her forehead at her hairline. He traced its edges with his fingertips before smoothing her hair with his palm. She felt warm and her coloring was good which he found reassuring. He pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down, bringing her right hand into his lap and holding it with both of his. He didn’t know if this was acceptable in their newly restored partnership but he needed to touch her to prove that she was here and she was safe.

He was silently praying for the universe to protect her—his own form of prayer that she’d recently called “dark wizardry”—when her eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” he said. He’s kept holding onto her hand and was relieved when she didn’t pull away. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

Her eyes darted around the room before landing on him. She looked alarmed and tried pushing herself up to a seated position. He instinctually brought his hands to her shoulders, and tried to keep her from moving too suddenly and further hurting her head.

“Easy, Scully, you were in an accident. Do you remember what happened?”

“Mulder,” she whispered, fear in her voice.

“Yeah?”

“Mulder, I’ve seen it. I’ve seen how it begins.” Although her voice was barely above a whisper, she spoke with urgency.

“What are you talking about?”

“You were right. You were right about everything.”

“Scully, slow down. You were in a car accident on the way to work. What did you see?”

“The alien colonization of the planet,” she said, focusing intensely on him. On any other day he’d laugh at the possibility of Scully imagining an alien invasion in a sedative-laced dream, but her eyes were so full of terror that he knew this wasn’t a time to try to lighten her mood with a joke.

“You were right all along,” she continued. “The plan was set into motion in 2012 but it’s going to start in earnest now and if we don’t do anything billions of people will die. You were dying, Mulder, I barely got to you in time.”

She told him her vision of the outbreak of an alien virus, her learning that Monica Reyes had betrayed them, and the scene of finding him near-death on a gridlocked bridge. It was so shocking he nearly wanted to run and find the doctor and demand another brain scan to show her concussion was far from mild.

But she spoke so lucidly that he doesn’t believe this was just a hallucination from being sedated. As she spoke, he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and rested his palm on her cheek. The monitors tracking her pulse and heart rate beeped more frequently as she breathlessly told him what she saw.

“The only way to save you—to save everyone—is to find him before they get to him.”

“Find who?”

“William. Our son.”

He felt his stomach turn and her jaw clenched under his hand.

“You have to find him. And you have to stop him before he unleashes Hell on Earth.”

“William will do that?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “He has the power to stop all of this but if they get to him first they will use him to complete the plan and wipe out the human race.”

“You don’t believe me,” she said, sighing. “Now I’m getting a taste of what that feels like.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile, the most he could manage as her eyes filled with tears. “No, Scully, I do. I do believe you. But I need to know how you know all of this.”

“I saw it.” She paused. “He was in my head and he showed me all of it. He’s in trouble and he needs us to find him.”

“William was in your head?”

“Yes. I can’t explain it, but I know it was him. I could feel him. I know this sounds ridiculous but I swear, Mulder, nothing has ever felt so real to me.”

“I understand. I had the same feeling years ago. I know what you mean. But I don’t understand, why did this happen to you now?”

“He needed to tell me.” She jolted up again and his hand fell to her hip. “Mulder, there isn’t any time. You have to find him.”

“Do you have any idea where he is?”

She blinked quickly and tears began to run down her face. She shook her head. “No. But you need to go now.”


	2. Chapter 2

One Year Earlier

For as long as he could remember, William Van De Kamp couldn't wait to leave his boring hometown behind. His classmates' families had been in Wyoming for generations and their only dreams were taking over their family farms or going into mining. William liked to think he might study medicine and find cures for devastating diseases, or become a physicist and solve the mysteries of the universe. He was only three years away from graduating high school and even though his parents would prefer he went to college in-state because of the cheaper tuition, he was willing to do anything he could to get scholarships or financial aid to go somewhere far, far away from middle of nowhere Wyoming.

It didn’t help that he had freakish abilities like knowing what someone was going to say before they said it or making an object move without touching it. 

He’d known from an early age that he was adopted. Even if his parents hadn’t told him, it would’ve been obvious. At fifteen he was already taller than his mother and nearly as tall as his dad. and he shared none of their features. His parents had given him everything he needed growing up, but as small town farmers there was only so much they could do to satisfy his fierce intelligence and bottomless curiosity. All through elementary school his teachers urged his parents to let him skip a grade since he was so far ahead of the other students, but they held firm that they wanted him to be as normal as possible. He argued that there wasn’t anything abnormal about being smart, but they just sighed and told him to try to be less of a smart aleck around the other kids. Needless to say, he didn’t have the easiest time making friends.

He'd just gotten in trouble again for correcting his biology teacher and finishing her sentences in class. At yet another strained meeting between him, his parents, and the high school principal, his parents made him apologize profusely for his behavior and promise to never do it again. 

“What do you know about my real parents?” he asked his parents when they returned home. 

“We are your parents,” his father said.

“You know what I mean.”

His mother gave an aggravated sigh and his father just shook his head.

“We’ve told you everything we know,” his mother said. “Your birth mother was a single mom who couldn’t handle the responsibility of a baby. She probably wasn’t much older than you are now.”

“Especially the responsibility of a kid who’s a freak,” William said. “I bet you wish you could give me up now, too.”

“Don’t ever say that, William,” his mother raised her voice. “You are the best gift we could’ve asked for.”

“Whatever,” William said. He got up from the kitchen table and stomped up the stairs to his room.

He had to suspect that his real mother knew something about why he was so different than all the other kids. Maybe she even could’ve helped him deal with his abilities. But instead she just handed him off to some unsuspecting couple who couldn’t have a baby of his own. He almost felt bad for his parents. They thought they were getting a nice, normal baby but instead they got stuck with him.

The principal of his school insisted to his parents that he see a therapist and gave him the name of a woman who came highly recommended. Neither of his parents had ever seen a therapist and they weren't sure how they felt about William talking to one, but when the principal said it was go for an appointment or face expulsion, they felt like they had no choice. Before his mother took him to his first appointment, though,she made him promise to not tell the therapist about his special “talents,” as they called them. 

William sat with his mother quietly in the waiting room. It was set up for younger kids, with a chest of toys and some building blocks. The room was empty except for the two of them, and for a place that supposedly had a lot of little kids running around it seemed oddly sterile.

"William Van De Kamp?" William looked up and saw a thin woman with short black hair. She was pretty. He'd been expecting someone more like his frumpy teachers but with her black pantsuit she looked more like a city businesswoman than a small town therapist.

William and his mother both stood up. "Do you want me to go in with you?"

"No, thanks," he said.

"Alright," said the therapist. "You can follow me."

Her office was small with jam-packed bookcases lining two walls that made it seem even more claustrophobic. But it was impeccably clean and there weren't any traces of the kid toys from outside.

"Hi William," she said. "My name is Monica Reyes."

She extended his hand and after a pause he reached out to shake it. "Nice to meet you, Miss Reyes."

"Please, Monica is fine."

He didn't like the way Monica was looking at him. She kept smiling as if they were old friends who hadn't seen each other in years. 

"William, your parents told me you were having some trouble at school. Do you want to tell me, in your own words, what's going on?"

He sat quietly. nervous that anything he said would make him sound more like a freak.

When he didn't speak, Monica said, "Before you start, I do want to let you know that everything we talk about here doesn't leave this room--not even to your parents. Unless you tell me you've hurt yourself or someone else--or you plan on doing so--I won't tell your parents or anyone from your school anything we discuss."

"Okay," he said but he still felt hesitant.

"Why don't we start with your classmates," she said. "Do you have any close friends?"

"No," he said. "I don't have any friends."

"None at all?"

"No, I can't stand anyone in my school. They're all so dumb and even if I tried to make friends with them, they'd just be mean to me anyway." 

"That sounds like it must be difficult," Monica said. She had a yellow legal pad on her lap but she didn't have a pen. William thought that was strange based on the few times he'd seen a movie or TV show where someone went to a therapist or psychologist. 

"Shouldn't you be taking notes?" he asked.

"What?"

"You're just holding that pad but you have nothing to write with. Don't therapists usually write stuff down?" 

Monica smiled, an even wider and somehow creepier smile than the one she'd had before. "That's a good point," she said, but didn't make a move to get a pen or pencil from her desk.

"William, have you ever felt that you were different from all the people around you?"

William squinted at her. He wasn't sure if this was a trick question, something to make him admit how weird he was. He didn't answer.

"Or maybe that you're destined for something bigger than your life now?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he said. "The second one. Like I can't wait to get out of school and start doing something exciting." 

She grinned at him again and reached out to put the yellow notepad on her desk. Now she just held her hands in her lap which was very strange.

"William, I have to be completely honest with you. I'm not really a therapist. I used to work with your parents--your real parents--and now I've come to work for your paternal grandfather. It's very important that you not repeat anything I'm about to tell you, not even to your parents."

This was really messed up, William thought. Adults weren't supposed to have secrets with kids. But he felt intensely curious about his birth parents and now his grandfather that he resisted the logical voice in his head saying he should run out the door and tell his mother this woman was crazy.

"This is going to sound strange, but it will also explain some of your special abilities."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's okay, William, you don't have to hide any of that from me."

She went on, "Your grandfather was once part of a global organization that made contact with extraterrestrial life in 1947. They learned that a species of aliens had visited our planet millions of years ago. The were returning soon to recolonize it through spreading a virus that would infect all of humanity and turn us all into hosts for their kind."

William couldn't help but laugh. "Are you serious? Aliens?"

"Let me finish, William," she said. "Your grandfather's organization included members of government from all the most powerful nations, but for reasons that will become obvious it was kept a secret. These men wanted to save humanity so they offered the aliens a deal--put off colonization in hopes that they'd buy some time to develop a vaccine against the virus, and in exchange they would each surrender a family member to the aliens for them to study our genome."

William was speechless. His small town library had a very limited selection of books on ESP and telekinesis when he had tried researching what was going on with him, they all suggested such abilities were probably were the result of abnormal brain activity. He'd read nothing about flying saucers and little green men.

"I know it doesn't make sense. But neither does your ability to read minds and move things without touching them, does it?"

"I can't do it all the time," he said. 

"That's alright," Monica said. "That's one of the reasons we've come to find you. Your grandfather wants me to work with you to develop your abilities, so that when colonization comes you will be part of the new global elite that will rule alongside the extraterrestrials."

"But what about the vaccine?"

Monica sat back in her chair. She wasn't smiling anymore and instead looked sad. "I'm afraid it's too late for that. All of the efforts to develop a vaccine failed and time is running out. We only have around a year before the virus is activated and begins to spread." 

This had to be bullshit. It had to be one of those tests psychologists give you to see if your crazy. 

He arched his eyebrows. "I don't believe you," he said. "Aliens don't exist."

Monica smiled.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, just...your face right now....you remind me so much of your mother."

William paused. This woman knew his birth mother somehow and she knew about his abilities so he had an inkling to trust her even though what she was saying was insane. He tried to focus his attention on her thoughts. This rarely worked when he actively tried it so he wasn't surprised when nothing clear came to the surface.

"Where is my mother now?"

A pained expression passed over Monica's face. William closed his eyes and the image of a woman with red hair appeared in his mind's eye. It's a vision he'd had before. The woman's face was never in focus but he'd sometimes think he could see tendrils of her hair falling around his face. When he reached out to grab a strand, his hands were small and chubby like a baby's. This time, though, he must've been seeing the woman through Monica's eyes. Her face was much clearer. She had piercing blue eyes, like his own and she looked like she was crying. 

"Your mother gave you up for adoption because she was afraid for your safety. She thought that if people found out about your abilities they would want to hurt you."

"Why?"

"Well, the reason you have these talents is because your genome contains both human and alien DNA in a proportion never seen before. For decades, your grandfather's organization had tried to create an alien human hybrid that would survive the alien takeover." 

"Ok, so now you're trying to tell me I'm part-alien? That my real dad was an alien?"

"You're genome contains alien DNA because both your parents were exposed to it before you were born. For a short period of time, your father was even able to read minds like you can. We need your genetic material to ensure that our group is able to survive the invasion. Would you be willing to meet with me, and eventually your grandfather, to help us?"

This was nuts. This woman had to be out of her mind or was trying to prove he was out of his mind or something. But there were parts of the story that made sense. He did have the ability to read minds, but it flickered on and off like a light bulb. It also might explain why his mother gave him up. And maybe this was the moment he felt he'd been destined for his whole life--to transcend his boring reality and do something heroic.

"And William, one more thing. If you tell your parents, or anyone else, about what I've told you today you will be putting their lives in jeopardy. Do you understand?"

William realized his heart was pounding. Was she going to kill his parents if he didn't agree to meet with her? 

"Fine," he said finally. "What do I have to do?"

Monica smiled. "I knew you'd do the right thing. I'll just keep setting up weekly appointments with your mother and all you have to do is keep coming. I think that's all the time we have for now. It was so good to finally meet you, William."

"Sure, okay," he stammered. 

He let himself out of the room. His mother was still waiting where he left her pretending to read a magazine but he could feel her thoughts on him. She looked up at the sound of the door opening. "How'd it go?" she asked.

"Good," William said. "I think I'd like to see her again."

His mother smiled. "That's wonderful. She comes very well recommended and she's actually charging us much lower than her normal fee since she knows we don't have much money, so I'm glad it worked out."

"That's nice," he said, wondering if Monica had also threatened someone at his school to recommend her to his parents or how she knew how to find him. 

Over the next year, William met with Monica once a week. While his mother waited in the always empty waiting room, he learned more about his role in the coming invasion. Even though he wasn't actually receiving any therapy, he tried to act better in school, partly because he wanted his parents to think his "therapy" was working and partly because he was so distracted thinking about the plans. He also tried to imagine his grandfather, who Monica promised he would meet when the time came. 

As the date approached, he felt both excited and terrified. He asked Monica more than once about the vaccine but she kept insisting it was too late. There wasn't anyone else he could ask so he had to believe her. She was preparing him for leaving his old life behind--including his parents and everyone he knew--but he didn't like the idea that everyone else had to die so that he could live. Monica told him when the time came, they would take him to a safe house where doctors would harvest stem cells from his bone marrow to implant in the rest of the group. He couldn't understand why they wouldn't just do it earlier so that more people could get his stem cells. But Monica told him if anyone knew what was going on, there would be mass panic and no one would survive. She promised if he came with her he'd have the chance to do truly great work and advance the future of mankind.

Finally, Monica told him the date when it would all begin. The plan was that he'd leave for school as usual but instead of going into the building he'd turn a couple of blocks earlier and see Monica and his grandfather waiting for him. It's a plan he'd rehearsed in his mind for months leading up that moment, but as he lay in bed that morning it had felt like the last thing he wanted to do.

He'd had the dream again the previous night. It was a dream he'd been having for as long as he could remember. He's building a sand castle on the beach with a tall, dark-haired man. He'd never seen the man before in real life but his face was always so vivid unlike other hazy figures like the red-headed woman he'd see sometimes. The older he got, the more William realized he resembled the man. They had the same jawline and the nose his mother called "strong," but he always thought of as way too big for his face. He liked to imagine that the man was his real father, but Monica told him he'd only spent two days with his father and it'd be impossible to remember him. 

In his most recent dream, the tide was rising and each wave inched closer to the sand castle they were building, threatening to wash it away.

"It's going to get ruined," William said. 

"It's okay. We can fix it," said the man. "Do you trust me, William?"

"Yes," he said. And he did. For as long as he'd had this recurring dream he always felt safe with the man on the beach. He'd had other dreams of people chasing him or trying to hurt him, but in this dream he always felt happy and at peace, like he was home.

"Good. I trust you, too, son" he said. "And I trust that you'll do the right thing."

A wave broke at the shore and rushed toward their sand castle. Before William could see if the wave got close enough to wash over it, he woke up in a cold sweat to the shrill buzz of his alarm clock. He pounded the snooze button. 

Something was wrong. What was the right thing that his father wanted him to do? Was it to go along with Monica and join the small group that would survive the apocalypse? For months he'd believed that was what he had to do, but he felt like his father was trying to tell him something else. Monica said his real parents couldn't be included in the group that survived because they were determined to reveal the project which would put everything in jeopardy. She seemed to have answers to all his questions, but in the back of his mind he kept thinking it didn't add up. What if his real parents knew a way to save everyone? 

The alarm clock went off again and he finally sat up. His parents were already off at work when it was time for him to go to school. He had his backpack filled not with textbooks and notebooks, but with a change of clothes and some toiletries like Monica had instructed him. He dressed and walked down the stairs of his house. He tried to memorize the way the old wooden steps sounded and felt under his feet, and where all the dimples of paint and old nail holes were on the walls. He'd most likely never see his house or his parents ever again. He shut the front door and turned around to face the house. It was the only home he'd ever known. 

Monica and his grandfather were probably already waiting for him at the meeting spot. It would be so easy to just go with them and let them guide him through the next phase of the project. As he took his first steps away from the house and toward the school, though, he heard his father's voice from the dream echoing in his ears and he knew he wasn't doing the right thing. Without a plan or destination, he turned in the opposite direction and began to run.


	3. Chapter 3

Mulder's first instinct was that William must be nearby. Back when he was exposed to the rubbing from the artifact that washed up on the Ivory Coast, he’d experienced the same sensation Scully had described—that someone was speaking to him from within his own head--but it had only been people in a close vicinity. 

There were images from those days right before his impromptu brain surgery that had stuck with him nearly two decades later. When Scully had come to see him in the hospital he'd felt the immense force of her love for him and her fierce desire to protect him. It felt different from the emotion emanating from Diana, which was tainted by an instinct for self-preservation. 

He'd felt the same way about her for years but always feared that the feeling wasn't mutual. As he lay on an operating table unable to speak or move, her warm tears fell on his face and any doubt he had about her affection toward him vanished. It's what gave him the courage to tell her she was his touchstone and, although it took a few more months, to finally kiss her. 

Achieving the high school fantasy of being able to read your crush's mind was one of the very few perks of being at the center of a global conspiracy. If his sister had never disappeared, he never would have joined the bureau nor met and fell in love with Scully. If his abnormal brain activity hadn't allowed him to read her thoughts he'd probably never have worked up the balls to do something about it. He asked Scully once why she'd named their son for his father and not her own. She said it was because if his father hadn't done the things he'd done, no matter how morally questionable those actions were, they wouldn't be together and William would never have been born. He understood the sentiment but he didn't know if he could ever forgive him father for the cowardly choices that had torn their family apart. 

It was also then when he saw the boy building sand castles on the beach. At first he thought the boy was the manifestation of his inner child’s frustration of never being able to save his sister. But the boy didn’t look exactly like he did at that age. His features were softer and his eyes were a bright blue he’d only seen on one other person before. It wasn’t until Mulder held his son for the first time that he realized the boy on the beach was William. More than a year before he was born, months before he was conceived, back when the very idea of a son of his and Scully’s was an impossibility, he’d seen his son and felt his thoughts in his head.

During the years since he’d last seen his son, he’d tried to conjure the memory of being able to connect with him psychically, if only to know that he was safe and still alive. He tried techniques to induce lucid dreaming and even dabbled with self-hypnosis, but he was never able to make the connection again. But now Scully could, and although he couldn’t explain why, he knew that William was in trouble and they had to find him.

If what Scully felt was right, he had to believe that their son would make the right choice and not be tempted by whatever beautiful lies the other side was offering him. 

******************************************

After Scully assured him she was alright in the hospital, Mulder headed back to their office. On the drive over he knew who he’d have to call. He hadn't been in contact with the Gunmen for more than a decade since their deaths were staged. It was their plan all along. In a series of heavily encoded emails before their disappearance, they'd reached out to him about the attempts made on William's life. They'd figured out a way to monitor certain channels where the existing members of the syndicate still communicated, but to ensure their access wouldn't be detected, they had to go deep underground. Beforehand, they had showed Mulder how to navigate a messaging service on the deep web through which he could reach them through a series of encrypted IP addresses, but it was only for life-or-death, the-planet-is-at-stake emergencies. He figured this qualified. 

Back at the office he followed the instructions he'd memorized and typed, in the code they’d crafted years ago: NEED HELP. ASAP.

He didn’t know what to expect after sending the message. Would they see it right away? Was it being sent from server to server getting further encoded and secured? Would they even be able to help him?

He sat dumbfounded with his head in his hands. The worst part of all of this was feeling helpless. He was better at handling disasters when there was some piece of evidence to be found or someone to point a gun at and demand answers from. He'd be willing to do anything to find William, but he didn’t even know where to start. In one way or another, Mulder had felt helpless for the past 15 years. He couldn't keep William safe nor could he erase the pain and guilt Scully felt for giving him away. Instead he retreated inward and, when Scully finally walked out, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop her. 

Suddenly a notification popped up on his computer. In the reply to his message was simply a link, written in nonsense characters. As soon as he clicked the link, his phone began to vibrate on the table. A FaceTime request from a hidden number. He accepted and saw Langley on the other end. If the end of the world wasn’t imminent he’d tease his old friend for still managing to look so young while his own visage was marked with wrinkles and hair graying on his temples. 

“Long time no see, old friend,” Langley greeted him. But he wasn’t smiling either. “I’m assuming you know it’s starting?”

“Colonization? The alien virus? Is that what’s starting?”

“We’re hearing chatter on certain channels. Byers and Frohike are furiously digging in right now trying to get more info. But all we know right now is that something big is afoot.”

“And William?”

“Mulder, I’m sorry—“

“What? What happened to him?” He shouted at the phone.

“We have every reason to believe he’s alive. They seem to think he’s more valuable to them that way. But he was taken from his adopted home early yesterday. We would have reached out to you if we could, but we’re doing all we can to find out where they took him.”

“Who took him?”

“The same bastards who are trying to save themselves at the expense of all of us. I wish I had more to tell you," said a familiar voice just out of view. 

The image on Mulder’s cell phone screen shifted suddenly and he found himself looking at Frohike’s disgruntled face.

“We started gathering information as soon as we could," Frohike started. “I don’t know how helpful this is, but we found an address.” He recited a South Carolina address that Mulder hastily jotted down. 

“Is that where William is?”

“I don’t know. But it seems like there’s some sort of meeting about to go down there. And if what we’re hearing is true, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone who knew what happened to him is there. Shit, man. You know we were doing everything we could to keep an eye on him. But something happened this yesterday and all of our lines of communication were jammed. When we got back online today we realized he’d been reported missing. Supposedly never showed up at school yesterday and didn't come back home all night." 

“I understand,” Mulder said. He knew it wasn’t their fault. If anything, the blame laid with himself for leaving his fledgling family nearly nearly sixteen years ago. Now he ached, too, for the other set of parents who were missing their son because of him. “I’m going to head down there now. You’ll be able to reach me if you get any news?”

“Yeah, Mulder, we got your info when you reached out to us. How did you know, anyway?”

“I didn’t,” he said. “Scully felt he was in trouble.”

“She felt it? Like mother’s intuition?”

“I’m scared it’s something a little more powerful than that. Call me as soon as you hear anything.”

“Of course. Be safe out there, man.”

He was already out of the elevator on the ground floor when his cell phone rang again.

“Mulder.”

“Mulder, it’s me. Where are you?”

“I’m following what’s either a very promising lead or going on a wild goose chase to somewhere in Spartanburg, South Carolina.”

“South Carolina?”

“I got an address from the gunmen. I don’t know if William will be there but if there’s any chance, I have to go now. I’m headed to the airport now to get the next flight down there.”

“Come pick me up on the way.”

“Are you being discharged? Did they say you’re alright to leave?”

“I’m checking myself out, Mulder. We have to find our son.”

******************************************

She was waiting for him when he pulls up in front of the hospital. She looked nearly back to normal in her black pantsuit but on closer inspection he saw blood splattered on her white blouse and a sizable bump under the bruise on her forehead.

“How’s the noggin, doc?” he said as she slowly eased herself into the passenger seat. She cringed and he realized she must’ve gotten more banged up in the crash than she'd thought. 

“I’m fine. It’s so strange though, I remember getting in my car to go to work, and then having that vision, and then nothing until waking up in the emergency room. I don’t even know if there was another car involved or what happened.”

“That is strange, Scully. But if William is somehow reaching out to you through psychic ability, it wouldn’t be unusual for you to experience missing time or lapses in memory. I don’t know how any of it works, but when I was experiencing it I remember time seemed to bend and contract in ways that didn’t make sense. And there were stretches of time I can’t account for.”

“None of this makes sense, Mulder.”

“I know. But if he did reach out to you, we have to go on every lead we have to try to find him.”

“We'll find him,” she said. “I know we will.”

He felt her small, warm hand on his thigh and he looked down at in surprise as she gave him a reassuring squeeze. He covered her hand with his and they interlocked fingers. He didn't know if it was just meant to comfort him, or comfort her, or if she was trying to tell him she forgave him for acting like an asshole for the better part of the past year. He didn't question it, just held her hand tightly all the way to the airport.

Their hands found each other’s again during the flight and she leaned her head on his shoulder. He turned and gently kissed the crown of her head right above the bruise and she didn't pull away. They had spent hundreds of flights like this before, her dozing on his shoulder, but this time neither of them could sleep. They just clung to each other and counted down the minutes until landing.

They followed the directions of the rental car's GPS away from the airport and down narrower and narrower roads until they were driving on a gravelly path with long stretches of nothingness between driveways.

"You're sure this is right?" Scully asked. It was such a familiar question, one that he'd heard dozens of time whenever they were on the back roads of Anytown, USA, chasing down a lizard monster or a demonic high schooler. They used to rely on AAA maps that Scully opened up from their origami folds and spread across the dashboard trying to find their location on the veins and capillaries crisscrossing the map. Now they had the calm if robotic female voice of the navigation system leading the way. He preferred the spectacle of Scully trying to navigate on a map that was longer than she was tall. 

"Well, it's certainly taking us to this address, wherever it is," he said. They squeezed hands on the console as they followed the electronic map.

Your destination is on the left

Mulder stopped the car the left side of the road but there didn't see to be any house or driveway.

"Look," Scully pointed, "Up there, it looks like there's a turn-off."

He drove slowly forward and sure enough there was a clearing farther down between the thick elm trees framing the road. The driveway, if it could be considered one, was narrow and branches scraped up against the side of the car. After about a quarter mile the path opened up to a clearing with an inconspicuous white clapboard house. Tires were tossed in a pile of weeds in front of the house and clothing were draped over the railing of the small deck.

"I guess this is it," he said. If he were to imagine a location for the most powerful men in the world to meet and discuss the fate of humankind, this small rundown home wouldn't top the list. But the address matched the one he'd been given by the gunmen so it was all they had to go on.

"Let's check it out," he said. 

"Right behind you, partner." He glanced back and smiled at her wishing they were just going to interview a citizen who witnessed strange lights in the sky, and not possibly about to see their son for the first time in sixteen years.

"Oh, Mulder!"

Mulder spun around and saw Scully crouching over the car in pain with her hands on the sides of her head.

"Scully! What's wrong? Is it your head, from the accident?"

"Ah," she gasped and he came to wrap himself around her. "Yes. No. I don't know. I think I can hear him again. And I hear--oh god--that noise!"

It must be the same high-pitched, ear splitting sound that he had heard in the presence of the imprint from the African ship. 

"Let's get you back in the car."

He opened the passenger side door and helped her back into the seat.

"Shut the door!" she shouted and he did, running over to enter again on the driver's side.

"This is better," she said. "He's close, Mulder, I can feel it. But I can't go in there, you have to go alone."

"I can't leave you here."

"You have to--you saw what happened to me outside."

"You seem better now, do you want to try again?"

"No, it'll be worse the closer I get. Just go."

He didn't want to leave her alone in the car but from what he remembered about the same crushing head pain and excruciating noise, he knew she wouldn't be able to go in with him. 

"Be safe," she said before he stepped out of the car and shut the door.

The front door was unlocked so he entered slowly with his gun drawn. The interior of the house felt more spacious than it looked from the outside. He stepped slowly through the entrance way and into what looks like a study, with hardwood floors and bookshelves lining the walls. The sound of a deep exhalation startled him and he spun around to aim his gun at an older, heavy-set man sitting in a leather chair.

"Mr. Mulder," the man said. "I've been expecting you."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Someone you can trust."

"I've heard that before," Mulder said with his gun still directed straight at the man's head.

"Please, put that down," the man said. "You must trust me. I'm on your side. I want the same thing you and your partner do."

"I doubt that. We want to save humanity, you want to see blood on the streets, the extermination of 7 billion people."

"No, you've got it all wrong. There's only one man left who wants to carry out that plot. The rest of us, the few who remain, we want to stop him before he puts the plan in motion leaving only himself and his cronies to rule over a zombie race of people infected with the alien virus."

"Who? Who is this man?" Mulder shouted. 

"The only man vile enough to sacrifice the entire human species for a taste of ultimate power. It's your father, Mr. Mulder."

"CGB Spender? The smoking man? That's impossible, he was killed sixteen years ago in the desert of New Mexico."

"Men like him don't die, Mr. Mulder. He's sold his humanity years ago in exchange for alien technology that gives him capability beyond what you and I could dream of. You're the only one who can stop him. Kill him before he kills us all."

"Why me? How can I stop him?" Mulder asked more gently but didn't lower his gun. 

"Because you can find the one thing he needs to set his plan in motion."

"My son."

"He needs the boy, Mr. Mulder"

"My son is none of your business," Mulder shouted again, feeling his anger at this man and for the injustice of it all. 

"He's a very special child"

"He's a child. That's all he is. He doesn't deserve to be dragged into this."

"A child with exceptional abnormalities in his DNA. He can thank you and your partner for that. He has the power to save humanity or, if your father gets to him first, to destroy it."

Mulder shook his head. "My son was taken from his home earlier today and I have reason to believe you're behind this."

"We tried to take him, Mulder, we tried to take him to protect him but he escaped. I don't know where he is, but it's imperative that you find him before Spender does. Your father will promise his grandson eternal life and a seat alongside him as omnipotent ruler of what's left of this planet in exchange for the genetic material within him that can protect them while the world burns."

"William wouldn't agree to that. He wouldn't take that deal."

"Are you sure about that? When was the last time you saw your son, Mr. Mulder?"

Mulder tried not to think about that day, so many years ago when he was forced to leave the two people he loved most, the only two people he'd take a bullet for without a second thought.

"You're wrong," Mulder said. "He's my son and I know he wouldn't do that. Now where the hell is he?"

"I told you, I don't know. I had my men sent to Wyoming to get him and bring him here, but they were unable to find him. They're out looking for him now but I suspect you and his mother will have a better chance of finding him."

"I swear, if anything happens to him, anything at all, I will personally put a bullet through your brain and find every last one of your henchmen and kill them myself."

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that, Mr. Mulder."

Mulder shook his head and turned away from the man. When he walked out of the house he saw Scully was motionless in the passenger seat with her eyes closed. He ran to her side and opened the door.

"Scully," he gently shook her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

She didn't flinch or open her eyes. He could see she was still breathing but when he squeezed her hands she showed no response.

"Shit. Scully." Mulder ran around to the driver's side and got into the car. He found the address for the nearest hospital and keyed it into the GPS.

He kept trying to rouse her during the short drive over but she remained slumped over in her seat. 

He pulled up directly in front of the emergency room exit and carried her in his arms through the sliding door.


	4. Chapter 4

"Help!" He shouted "I need help now!"

A handful of triage nurses rushed toward him. He laid Scully's motionless body onto a stretcher one of the nurses came pushing. 

"She's been unconscious for around 20-30 minutes," he said, estimating how much time had gone by before he left her in the car. "She was in an accident earlier today and had a concussion--you can see, here, on her head, there's a bruise. She had tests ran and they didn't see any brain damage." 

He followed the nurse pushing the stretcher through the waiting room and into the emergency department where they transferred Scully to a bed and started attaching her to various monitors. A petite female doctor approached and Mulder related the day's events to her. Although she had dark hair and eyes, the doctor reminded Mulder of Scully when they first met. She seemed way too young to be in charge of his partner's medical care, but she exuded a calm confidence that made him trust her. 

"What's happening to her?" he asked the doctor.

"It could be a delayed response to her head injury. Patients have been known to experience lucid periods for hours after a concussion before showing more serious symptoms. Did she seem confused at all since the accident? Any seizures or slurred speech?"

"No," he said. "She was fine."

He omitted the brief crushing head pain and psychic connection to her son because he knew it was nothing this small town hospital could explain. A nurse drew a vial of blood from her arm.

"Has she taken any drugs or alcohol since the accident?"

"No, none."

"Her vitals are stable for now," said the doctor. "I'm going to expedite that blood work so we should have results soon. Why don't you have a seat here and I'll be right back, Mr.--"

"Mulder."

"Sure, Mr. Mulder. I'll be back soon with your wife's results." 

The doctor pulled the curtain separating Scully's bed from the rest of the busy emergency room closed before he had a chance to correct her. Not that he would. They'd both explained too many times to well-meaning diner waitresses and motel owners that they were only partners, even when they stopped being true. When they went on the run they never corrected anyone who assumed they were married even though they never wore rings or signed a certificate. And they lived as if they were until she left.

"Scully," he whispered over her unconscious form for the second time today. "You have to wake up and tell me what you heard. I need you to help me find our son." Mulder felt a tear running down his cheek as he gripped Scully's hand in his and brought it to his lips. He pressed a kiss on her fingers and kept her hand held close to his chest. Her skin felt thin and cool. 

Her body suddenly began to spasm and he lost connection with her hand as her limbs jolted rigidly on the bed. She opened her eyes and pained gasps sounded from her throat but he couldn't make out any words. 

Mulder pushed aside the curtain "We need a doctor in here now!"

She was still seizing when the doctor and team of nurses rushed to her bed and positioned her on her side. The doctor gave her an injection in the arm which stopped the seizure and her gasps, but she remained unconscious.

"We're going to get her in for an EEG and additional tests immediately," said the doctor. 

"I'm coming with you," Mulder replied. 

He followed the doctor and an orderly as they rolled her bed out of the emergency room and up an elevator to an exam room. 

"You can wait out here, sir," the doctor said gesturing to the waiting room. He was terrified of leaving Scully's side but he didn't feel like arguing with a strong-willed doctor who reminded him of his partner. Instead, he stood outside the exam room door as the doctor shut it behind her. 

Not for the first time today, he felt helpless and frustrated. Their son had gone missing somewhere between Wyoming and South Carolina and the only lead he had to go on was that the boy was somehow connecting with Scully through her mind. It could mean he was in close proximity but Scully had felt the connection even back in D.C. so it didn't add up.

He heard a scream--her scream--coming from the exam room and he swung open the door. She was laying on an exam table screaming and gripping her head again.

"Scully! Scully, I'm here," he said but he realized she wasn't aware of anything going on in the room. He brought his hand to her pale calf exposed from under her hospital gown but the doctor shoved him away.

"What's going on? What did you do?" He screamed.

"Nothing," the doctor said. "We were prepping her for the EEG and she just started screaming. This should help her, it stopped the seizure." She gave Scully another injection and her body relaxed again, her eyes closed.

"What the hell is happening to her?"

"We're going to try to find out but you have to wait outside while we examine her."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Fine," the doctor sighed. "But please stand away from the table."

He backed off slightly but not far enough that he wouldn't be able to reach out and grab her if something went wrong--not that he'd even be able to help. He watched as a technician arranged sensors on her head. One went right on top of her bruise and he wanted to shout that it was hurting her but he realized at the moment she wasn't feeling much of anything. The technician went back behind a screen that was out of Mulder's eyesight, and clicked on the keyboard.

After several minutes of clicking and scanning the technician printed a long page of results and handed it off to the doctor. Mulder tried to peer over the doctor's head but the printout was nonsensical to him. 

"Sir, it doesn't appear that there's anything physically wrong with your wife's brain that would be causing these seizures and outbursts. I'm still waiting on the results from the blood draw taken in the emergency room but in the meantime I'd like to transfer her to the psychiatric ward for further evaluation."

"Psychiatric? This isn't something in her head, she's not conscious for god's sake!"

"Yes, sir, I see that but we're not seeing anything on her scans that would indicate a physical reason for that right now. Let's go upstairs and get her settled in there and then we can discuss this further."

"Fine."

He followed the doctor and the same orderly again to the elevator bank and up to the psychiatric ward. The doctor once again instructs him to take a seat out by the nurses' desk while they get Scully settled in her room. He sank down in a plastic chair, letting his head rest in his hands. He wished this was happening to him instead of Scully. It was selfish, since he knew she would be in just as much pain watching him suffer, but at least she'd be more capable of helping. Here in the hospital he was hopelessly out of his element. His phone rang in his jacket pocket, jolting him out of his thoughts. 

It was another FaceTime request. He accepted the call and once again a fuzzy picture of Langley appeared on the other end.

"Mulder, where are you?"

"I'm in South Carolina, not far from where you sent me on our last cryptic phone call."

"Are you at the address?"

"I was. I'm at the hospital now, actually."

"The hospital? Did something happen to William?"

"No, it's Scully. Well, William might be involved as well."

"What do you mean?"

"She's experiencing mental disturbances similar to what I felt when I was briefly able to read minds. She thinks it may be William trying to get in touch with her."

"Well, you better find him quickly. You aren't the only one looking for him." 

"Yes, I've heard that." 

"Huh?"

"I met a man at that house who had arranged for William to be taken to protect him from Spender. The only issue is he escaped before they could get him to their safe house."

"Knowing he's your son that doesn't surprise me."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not. But it sounds like we're back to square one in terms of knowing his whereabouts."

"Well, maybe not."

"What do you mean?"

"If Scully is in touch with him somehow, can you see if she knows where he is?"

"I'm not sure it works that way."

He heard shouting coming from the direction where Scully was taken moments ago, and the hurried squeak of a nurse's soft-soled shoes followed.

"Shit--I gotta go," he ended the call quickly and raced down the hall. A team of doctors were assembled around Scully but she was screaming with her head in her hands.

"I need to talk to her," he shouted pushing through the crowd.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," the dark-haired doctor said.

"I don't care what you think," Mulder said. He stepped between the doctor and Scully's bedside. 

"Mulder!" Scully yelled. She stopped moving and stared directly at him. The team of doctors and nurses froze in place.

"Scully, I'm here." He sat next to her on the bed and grabbed hold of her hands. The people around them faded from his awareness and he focused on her. Her cheeks were red from shouting and her eyes looked wet. He was glad to see she was lucid again although he wished he could ease her distress. 

"Mulder, where am I?"

"A hospital in South Carolina. You lost consciousness outside of that house while you were waiting for me in the car."

"Did you find William?"

"No, he isn't here. But I met a man in that house who told me that he escaped when they were trying to protect him from my father, CGB Spender, who wants to use him to bring about that disaster movie scenario you got a glimpse of earlier."

"No!" She shouted. The nurses moved in closer but Mulder shook them off.

"Can you please give us a minute?" Scully said glancing away,from Mulder for only a second. Surprised by her patient's sudden return to normalcy, the doctor led the team of nurses out of the room.

"That man is a liar, Mulder. He's working for Spender and he's using us to lure in William so that they can use him."

"How do you know that?" he asked.

Scully bit her lower lip and shook her head. He didn't need her to explain it to him. He'd felt things like that before--sudden realizations of information he should have no way of knowing. It had scared him then and he could only imagine it was terrifying Scully now as it went against anything she'd normally believe was possible. 

He felt like an idiot for believing the man. Of course Spender wouldn't be working alone to find William. And if his nefarious group knew of William's ability to contact his mother, it only made sense that they'd plant information leading him and Scully right to them. 

"I spoke to Langley," Mulder said. "Apparently they were going to nab him in Wyoming this morning but he got away."

"He's heading toward us," she said. "He's--he's in a car, or on a bus somewhere. Mulder, I don't know how I know this, but he's getting closer." 

"I'll go," he said. He didn't know where, exactly, but if he had to shut down every highway between here and Wyoming he'd do it. He'd found his son once before, just by following a light and a gut instinct. He could do it again. He'd have to. 

"I'm going with you," Scully said. 

Mulder nodded. He knew better than to fight with her when she was this determined and if they had any chance of finding William, her connection with him would only help. 

"Fine," he said.

Convincing the team of doctors that a woman who had been unconscious and violently seizing moments before could check out of the hospital against medical advice wasn't easy but Scully went full doctor mode. She was soon back in her rumpled pants and bloody blouse and following him out of the hospital.

Miraculously their car hadn't been towed from where he stopped it right outside the entrance to the emergency room.

"Nice parking job," she said.

"That's what you get for passing out on me."

She smirked. He opened the passenger side door and guided her in.

"So what now?" he asked once he was back in the driver's seat. "Should I get us booked on a flight out to Wyoming? Or do you think he's out of the state by now?"

"I don't know," she said. "But we're going to have to drive." 

"Okay," he said. 

It wasn't the first time he'd been told to drive west without a destination in mind. At least this time he had some more faith in his passenger.


End file.
